To Break Apart
by Apprentice Writer
Summary: Corruption doesn't occur in an instant, but rather a progression. Regrets and cruelties build up. Over time, mental exhaustion takes over, and failure is the only option. {A collection of little stories on Riful}


When pushed into a corner, humans would devour each other. This was a fact made clear to the girl from a young age. They might spare their families and friends, but other humans would not be so lucky. By this logic, she should feel no guilt for what she as about do, but she did. She was as much a monster as the yoma she "worked" for.

She was "blessed with the opportunity to work with a yoma". Or at least that was how he, no, they phrased it. She would not honor that thing by thinking of them as anything more than a thing. Calling them a he made it too human. They too vast, too beyond her ability to fight, to just be an it, so they were a they. She knew that this was not a wonderful opportunity. Sometimes, she would much rather be dead. Some days, she prayed to the Twin Goddesses for death. She just wanted to be with her family again.

Just a few weeks before, she had been a normal little girl. She had three older siblings, two big sisters and an elder brother. She was a youngest child in her family. All of her siblings were considerably older than her. While she was nearing her twelfth year, her brother, the closest to her in age, was nearly seventeen. Her sisters were too old to live at home now, but they did so regardless. Her father was a lumberjack, and as such, they lived in the woods. Since the yoma infection had become more potent in the land, the little girl's family had been turned into outcasts. They lived outside the village, and as such couldn't be monitored. Nobody wanted to fight her big, respectable father, but nobody wanted to marry his daughters either, especially if they could be yoma.

This had never really bothered the family, though. Her sisters had learned to sew from her mother and made a decently wage making clothes for the people in town. It hadn't earned them any favours with the local seamstress, but people never complained. The seamstress was a grouchy old woman who refused to take on an apprentice after the girl's mother. She had been unable to keep up with all the work the village demanded, and as such, the girl's family were necessary for the village to have clothes for the winter.

But living in the forest had its own risks. The girl's family had been lucky to last as long as they did. They didn't realize until it was too late that there was a yoma in their household. It was the girl's brother that was taken over. They devoured the family without any hesitation. The fact that they didn't devour the girl herself was a miracle, or so she thought. Was she too small? Were they full? She didn't receive her answer until later.

She had tried to go to the village for help, but they cast her out. What yoma would let a child slip through their claws? No, she had to be a yoma herself. They didn't want to dirty themselves with her blood, and instead threw stones at her until she fled. Lost and alone in the woods, she found herself face to face with the same yoma as before.

The girl had always thought of the yoma as mindless creatures, only able to think them they were occupying a human form. She quickly learned she was wrong. They were as smart as any man, if not smarter. These yoma had lived a while, and had learned ways to avoid the silver eyed men who hunted them. They knew the men could sense and smell them if they entered the villages, so they never did. Instead, they employed a lure.

The girl wasn't stupid. She was young, but her experience had made her cynical. She knew that she was not the first girl that the Yoma had used as a lure. She was probably the fourth or fifth. It was obvious from the way they handled her. They never bruised her or left physical wounds. They must have figured this out previously. They also made sure that she wasn't overly thin. She wouldn't make a good meal when she screwed up if she didn't eat. Not that they would directly feed her. Their attempts to feed her were worse than anything.

They knew about scent as well. They knew that if she had yoma scent on her, the silver eyed men would be able to sniff her out. As such, the yoma always made sure that she would thoroughly washed. She had to look like a normal, well fed child for her role. A normal little girl was someone that humans wanted to help. An underfed, clearly homeless child they looked past. The more normal she could appear, the longer she would live. The girl had known this since the beginning.

It wasn't as though her appearance wasn't something she didn't care about. Every day, the memories of her family faded more. It shouldn't have in such a short time, but she was a traumatized child. She locked away her happy memories to help her cope. If she thought back to how things had been, she knew she would crack. The girl could only really remember one memory clearly. Why this one, she would never know. She remembered her mother's voice so clearly, telling her that she had the most beautiful hair of all the women in their family. As such, it was something she would always take care of.

Hair and dress intact, she was ready to begin her duty. She was like a gourmet chef to a Yoma. She had learned their tastes by now. Her Yoma liked children. They loved the softness of their innards, they liked the way they screamed and ran. She wondered why they'd gone after her family but not her. Then again, they needed a lure. So she would lure in some children.

She'd practiced every day to gets her lines right. She was the daughter of one of the merchants who had recently come into town. That was why they had never seen her before. She needed to befriend the village children and lure them into the woods.

They weren't hard to find. It was both a blessing and a curse for the young girl. The sooner that she found them, the sooner she could get her duty done. From there, she could tend to herself. But this also meant that the moment of horror was drawing closer.

There weren't that many children here. There were only nine, all playing some odd game with a ball. More than enough to feed her yoma for a few weeks. The girl had extended her life that much further. Unless one of the group showed exceptional potential, she would remain the yoma's lure. Everytime she thought that, a little more of her soul died.

"Can I play?" the girl asked. Several of the children turned to look at her. They looked her over. Before the question could be asked, the girl answered. "I'm new in town. My papa works for the caravan that just came into town. Mama told me to make some friends, so here I am."

The children were silent for a moment, and the girl's grin faltered. They knew. They knew that she was lying. She was sure of it. She had been too awkward when she spoke. Now they knew, and they were going to tell their parents and get her killed.

"That's so cool!" The silence was broken by one of the younger boys. He grinned and ran over to the girl. "My parents always said that it was really dangerous for merchants. You're really young to travel with them. Have you been lots of places? Oh, oh, and did they bring any cool stuff with them?"

The other's seemed friendlier after the boy spoke. It made her seem more human. It worked the same for the girl. It made them seem less like targets and more like real people. Her revolve faltered for a moment, but she forced herself to think selfishly again. Humans would devour each other if they had to. She was no different. Her life was extended for each child she led to their death.

"Yeah, of course," the girl exclaimed. "I'm been all over Lautrec, and even to Toulouse a little. We gather stuff from all over to sell. My papa says that it makes our produce more exotic. Right now, we've got a big stalk of weapons to sell to the village to defend themselves about the yoma. It's all Touslousian made too. The best of the best."

The group broke into conversation, which the girl proceeded to tune out. She hadn't even flinched when she lied. She was cool blooded now. She was perfect for this job, though it broke her inside. She was pulled out of her thoughts and into revulsion when the boy who had spoken so excitedly before grabbed her hands.

"Alright, here's a deal," the boy began, he excitement barely hidden in his voice. "You can play with us if you show us all of your dad's weapons. Except Violet. She thinks that weapons are boring. So she can stay here."

The boy stuck his tongue out at a young girl, who gave a huff. This could be a problem for the yoma's lure. If she could only bring part of the group… But she didn't have the force to make Violet to come. She would have to just bring the eight and hope that her yoma was satisfied. After that, they would have to move on. If they didn't, one of the silver eyed men would be called, and as much as the girl craved that she had to accept that it would be her death long before it was the yoma's.

"Alright, I'll show you to them. Then I can play, alright?" The girl gave the group a big, smile and led the group off. She could hear someone the children snickering behind her back, no doubt thinking that they had tricked her, rather than it being the other way around. It wouldn't be long now. She wiped away any trace of the smile on her lips, her expression behind completely void. It was funny, after doing this so many times, she had started to feel nothing.

Though the group gossiped and asked her questions on the way to the yoma, she never answered. She stayed completely silent for fear that she was going to slip up and tell them the truth. It wasn't long until she reached her yoma. He greeted her with a big grin and a hug. Her skin crawled as she touched by the creature. She hated them. She hated them more than she wanted to live, but what could she do? Any attempt she made on their life would end in her death. She knew how fast they healed. They had made it clear to her that trying to fight back was impossible.

"I see my little Emily has brought some friends to see our caravan. I'm guessing that she promised you all the chance to see the weapons? She's always doing that. Well come on, follow me." He never broke his smile, but he did break contact with the girl. Emily, that wasn't her name. He never used her name. Now it felt so distant that she wasn't even sure she had a name. All she was now was a lure. Emily, that was probably the name of one of the other lures. She didn't care anymore. He job was done. All the energy ran out of her body, and it took all she had left to stay on her feet as the children ran to follow the creature they thought to be her father. They were in for a big surprise, weren't they?

It was only after the children were out of sight that she fell to her knees. Eight more lives on her hands. What was eight compared to the rest? She'd been to bigger villages, brought in bigger hauls. And now they were all gone. Of course, her yoma wasn't going to eat all the children right away. He'd drag them through the woods with him, back to his current lair, where he could eat them in peace. There was not silver eyed man to find him. There was no end to this. How many more runs would she had to go on? The girl didn't know, but she was tired. She was dead tired.

Three days had past and the yoma had eaten only two of the children. It had been a successful hunt. For him. Not for his lure. She hadn't eaten in nearly a week now. Her stomach didn't bother her anymore. She was past that point. The yoma didn't see it that was though. He shoved the bits of the child's body in her face, ordering her to eat. Those there always the parts he didn't want. When he had the chance to be picky, he would. It didn't help that he was also amused to try and break her.

She was broken already, in almost every sense of the word. There was one line that she would not cross, and that was the line of eating another human. She didn't know how Yoma were born. Maybe they were created from humans who were so desperate that they ate each other. She wouldn't have been surprised. What choice did she have but to give in and become a Yoma? But no, she wouldn't. She would starve before she became one of them.

Eventually they grew bored of smashing bits of sinew against her mouth and demanding she ate. It was only then that she was free to get her own food. She washed herself off before she headed for the village. She was free of blood, but not of any other filth. She looked like a street child, and as such, would be ignored. Street children had no worth, especially little girls. What could you do with a girl? Sell her to a brothel? There were too many orphan girls now. The boys could at least be sent north and east. Girls were unwanted.

She slipped into the town without even an odd look and headed for the trash pile. If she was lucky, there would still be something good. Something she could eat. When it came down to it, she didn't mind eating trash to keep herself human. She would survive, and she would be human. The girl shoved her hands into the pile, searching for something soft. If she lucky, she would find a bit of meat or some half rotted vegetables. Anything edible was good.

"It must be such a burden," came the voice of a man. The lure turned to face him, her eyes wide in fear. Had her Yoma followed her? She was quickly corrected. Not a yoma, but part yoma. The man's silver eyes held her in place. Everything else about him seemed human, but his aura was so strange. This was one of the half-yoma warriors. This was a Claymore. Her throat ran dry. What if he killed her for being in league with the yoma? She didn't want to die. She could scream for help, but none would come. The fear suddenly turned cold. If she was going to die, then so was he. The yoma would die too. Then, she would be with her family and they would be punished. Part of her had always wanted this. She just wished she would outlive them.

"Don't worry, it will all be over soon." This was it. The girl closed her eyes and waited for death. She heard the moment of metal, the man's armor. She waited, but nothing happened. She cracked one eye open, only to see him leaving. "You've already shown me the way to his home."

The lure dropped to her knees, her hands sliding out of the trash. She was going to live, at least for a while longer. They would find out what she did soon. She would have to die. At least the monster would die first. She could be happy in that. Still, it raised an important question. They had only stayed so long because they thought the village wouldn't call for a Claymore for at least a few weeks. If they had known he'd be hear so soon, they wouldn't have stayed.

"You should thank the caravan for his presence," came a voice. The girl looked to see a man in a black outfit, a cruel smile plastered to his face. "They realized a yoma had been following them from village to village. It was a clever strategy, but they followed the same caravan for too long. Naturally, they called us. You're lucky that Isley was so close by. If he'd taken much longer getting here, there would have been more casualties. The village would hate you even more for that."

The girl flinched at the mention of the village's wrath. It would reach her soon, wouldn't it? This man was clearly here to detain her. "Isley… That's his name?"

"Yes," the man in black answered. "He is the strongest half-yoma that our Organization has ever created. Without a doubt, he'll be ending the life of that yoma soon. But then we will have to deal with the problem of you. If we leave you here, the children will surely rat you out to the village. You wouldn't live to see sunset."

The girl shuddered. She wouldn't have minded a swift death at Isley's hand, but if she were to be killed by the village, it would be slow and painful. They would do more than just drive her out this time. She didn't want to die, not like that. She wanted some dignity in her death.

"Of course, there are ways for you to live. You could run away from here, and try to live on the streets. I'm sure that would be no challenge for a girl with… Your skills." He was on the verge of laughing, while she was on the verge of crying. Her skills? All she could do was lie and rifle through the trash. She couldn't live like that. She didn't even think she wanted to live like that.

"Or, you could follow me back to Sutare and become a half-yoma. Of course, that is your choice, but it would allow you to get revenge on the yoma."

He said it was a choice, but the girl knew better. It was a choice, it was the only way she could survive. She had no choice but to go along with the man and before one of them. Part yoma. The thought of yoma blood coursing through her veins made her sick. She didn't know how it worked, but she could see herself becoming a monster in the process, something even possibly worse than the yoma that had used her. Still, the image of the man Isley popped into her head. He was inhuman, powerful, but strangely heroic. Yes, she could imagine becoming someone like that. If she could hold onto her humanity, maybe she could become a force for good.

"So, what do you say, miss…?" the man trailed off, waiting for the expected answer.

The girl thought of her life until this point. She was no longer the happy girl who knew nothing but her family and the few people from the village who would play with her. But she also wouldn't be the cold blooded woman who would allow other to get eaten, and in the metaphorical sense, eat them herself, just to extend her life a little longer. She would be something better, someone heroic like Isley. In that moment, she stripped away her old identity and became something new. No longer was she the girl rifling through the trash.

"Rifle…" she muttered, the word being the first to come to mind.

"What was that?" the man asked, his grin faltering for once.

No, rifle wouldn't work. To rifle, to search through things. Her sisters had often made games of finding the origin of the word. Rifle has been one of those. Rifle to rifler, to plunder or lightly scratch, to rifflion, to tear by rubbing, all the way back to rifa, to tear or break. Such a name fit a broken girl like her.

"I said my name is Riful, and I will accept your offer."


End file.
